


Truth's Understanding

by Illiteracy_is_for_woozles



Series: Reality 'Verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Bullying, Crying, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Flash Thompson Needs a Hug, Gen, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Protective Peter Parker, Public Humiliation, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 08:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17484710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illiteracy_is_for_woozles/pseuds/Illiteracy_is_for_woozles
Summary: The fallout from Hatred's Lies.Peter deals with his anger/frustration and confronts Flash.





	Truth's Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Yesterday I wrote a ficlet based off of an idea from @mmmmmmmmmchicken and everyone loved it so much that it has since become my tumblr post with the fastest-growing popularity.  
> It spiralled out of control until I wrote a part two.  
> Note: I am not sure how this one stacks up to the first one, but I have been writing since I was three years old and never had anyone cuss me out until that fic. So maybe my opinion is colored by that fact.

Peter poked at his lunch.

Well, the school  _ called _ it lunch. It really wasn’t food, but it was what they had and he wasn’t going to add to the grocery bill by bringing lunch with him every day.

He picked up his breadstick (the only edible part of the whole tray) and tried to nibble at it, but couldn’t get his stomach to stop clenching.

Across the room, laughter echoed loud and rambunctious, even for a school cafeteria. Most of the other students were huddled in their little groups, whispering away about their latest gossip.

_ That  _ was normal. It wouldn’t usually bother Peter.

What  _ did  _ bother him was the topic.

Flash.

The web-slinger’s super-hearing had picked his name up in nearly every whispered conversation that day. Everyone had either been asking if he was alright or spreading some outrageous rumor meant to humiliate him more than it was meant to actually explain why he was acting so strange. 

The boy in question was sequestered on the floor in the corner where no one would bother him, by the trash cans where no one else wanted to sit. 

The people he had once called “friends” sat across the room and regularly snuck glances at him and would send someone over to throw something away, “accidentally” missing and hitting Flash instead.

Peter tried to be angry with him, he really did. He should be allowed that at least, right?

Flash had run off as soon as he saw who was underneath the mask last night. No apologies, no explanations; just a gust of wind and a tingle of electricity in the air in his wake.

It  _ had  _ made Peter angry for a little while. He’d all but said that he forgave him, and yet he still ran.

But the anger had simmered down to more of a frustration. Yes, Flash seemed like the emotionally constipated kind of guy, but this was just ridiculous. He’d already seen him cry. (And there was no shame in that. Peter knew that first-hand)

He had tried to talk to him before school and in between classes, but Flash kept ducking and weaving through the crowd to avoid him.

Michelle thumped down across from him, pulling him from his thoughts, Ned sliding in next to her.

“You hear about Flash?” Ned asked in lieu of a greeting.

A muscle in Peter’s jaw ticked and Michelle must have seen it because her eyes narrowed.  _ Those Vulcan eyes of hers… _

“You know something we don’t, Parker?”

Peter shook his head and directed his gaze to the crime scene that was his lunch tray.

Through his peripheral vision, he saw the others share a look.

“Pete,” Ned began, softening his voice. “You know we’re all friends here, right? It’s our job to help each other out.”

Peter sighed. The other boy’s softness might have appeared like he was using kid’s gloves, but Peter knew he was just trying to be supportive.

“It’s just something between me and Flash.” He made sure he caught Ned’s eyes. “No need for the guy in the chair.”

Something dawned in his eyes then.  _ A Spiderman thing. _

Peter just hoped he wouldn’t ask any more questions.

Another round of laughter came from the more popular kids, this time spreading into snickers from the rest of the room.

One of the kids had gone to throw something away: a half-full pudding cup that had ended up all over the one kid on the floor… three feet away from the actual can.

“The bully has become the bullied,” Michelle mused. “It’s kinda poetic, in a sick way.”

Peter growled low in his throat. This  _ had _ to stop.

He stood, waving off his friends, and followed Flash as he left to get cleaned up.

Peter jogged after him until the made it to the boys’ bathroom. 

“Finally found the chance, huh?”

Peter just blinked for a moment as Flash took off his top layer, leaving the plain grey t-shirt beneath, and ran it under the faucet. 

“Kinda surprised you'd do it in the school, but hey,” he gestured at nothing. “What do I know?”

“What are you talking about?”

Peter took a step closer but froze when Flash flinched almost violently. 

The vigilante paused to actually  _ look  _ at the other teenager. 

His eyes were wide and his shoulders were up around his ears. His movements were jerky as he scrubbed at his shirt, but his eyes never strayed from Peter's hands.

It clicked.

“I'm not going to hurt you, Flash.” He held his hands up in surrender. 

The speedster laughed. 

“Why not? I deserve it.”

Peter gave a small, half-shrug. 

“Eh, not really my thing to decide what people deserve.”

Flash, who's hands had gotten faster and faster with their scrubbing of his shirt until they were inhumanly fast, realized he'd accidentally rubbed a hole right through the fabric and threw it down in frustration. He growled out a curse and pulled at his hair before sliding to the ground and smacking his head against the wall a few times. 

Peter slid down next to him, sliding his hand between the wall and his friend's head. 

“Why are you always so nice to me?”

Peter thought for a moment. 

“My aunt and uncle always told me that people who were mean to people usually did it out of ignorance, fear, or jealousy. So I assumed that it would be the same with you.” He took his hand back, clasping both together on top of his knees. “And I was right.”

Flash appeared deeply engrossed in the tile and grout for a few minutes, in which Peter sat in silence. 

“But-” There were the waterworks again. “I all but said that I hated you last night.”

Peter shook his head but kept his eyes forward on the old door. 

“No, you said that I made you feel inferior. Which I am really sorry about, by the way.”

Flash sniffed and waved the apology away. 

“Nah, it's my own insecurities. No reason you should suffer because of them.”

Peter scoffed. 

“And you should?”

Flash pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“I swear,” Peter fixed him with his deadliest glare. “If you say that it's what you deserve, I will throw you through this wall.”

That was enough to startle a laugh out of Flash. 

Peter was glad to hear that sound again, but he had to ask. 

“I don't mean to pry, but why were your friends making fun of you?”

Flash's face fell.

“They, uh, were making fun of Damian Fowler, the kid with the stutter in Mrs. Kinsey's class?” He swallowed, picking at his jeans. “I've never been cool with that kinda thing, picking on someone for something they can't help, but the others were all for it.”

Peter closed his eyes, already knowing how this ended. 

“I spoke up, because I had realized what we were doing at all was wrong. No questions asked.” He shook his head with a wry smile. “I did get them to stop picking on him.”

Peter sighed. 

“Well, I guess I should officially welcome you to the Losers Club.”

Flash chuckled. 

“No, seriously,” Peter continued. “We've got jackets and everything.”

Flash actually started giggling, pulling Peter along with him. 

“Still friends, then?” Peter asked when they finally stopped laughing. 

Flash offered a small smile in return. 

“Still friends.”

“Good, because I  _ really  _ want to get off this dirty, public restroom floor.”

Flash elbowed Peter in the stomach in his rush to get to his feet. 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to yell at me at a length where they won't let you in the comments here, or have questions, or just want to talk: I am squeaky-floorboards on tumblr.


End file.
